


A Black Witch's Giving

by LilyGilt (Yirry)



Category: The Half Bad Trilogy - Sally Green
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, M/M, POV First Person, Present Tense, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 19:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yirry/pseuds/LilyGilt
Summary: A different version of Nathan's Giving ceremony.[I have tagged Rape/Non-Con to help those who wish to avoid it, but I think the fic is most accurately described as dubcon.]





	A Black Witch's Giving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



My father slides his grandfather's ring onto my finger. It is the third gift. I wait for him to perform the next part of the ritual. This is when he will cut his palm and give me his blood to drink.

Wrong.

My father pauses. If it were someone else I would say he hesitates, but I can tell already that my father is not an indecisive person.

"White Witches have one way of performing a Giving ceremony. Black Witches have more than one," he tells me. I've never heard that before. 

"I can make you a witch the way you were expecting, or I can make you a witch the second way. The second way is more difficult and more intimate. It will also make you more powerful. The choice is yours, Nathan."

That's not much of a choice. There's so much he's not saying. I say what he knows. "Of course, I want to be powerful." I'm a little bit sarcastic, despite his warnings about respect. I want him to know that I see what he's doing. But really I don't. He's acted as though he believes the vision, expects me to try to kill him someday, so why would he make me more powerful than he has to?

"Good," he says. "Take off your clothes, Nathan. To finish the ceremony, I'm going to fuck you."

I'm on my feet. I strike out at him. "The _fuck_ you are!"

I'm on my back on the ground, the air knocked out of me. I didn't see what he did, but it could have been anything. It could have been a blow I didn't see coming, or he could have stopped time again. Or both.

"Or I can give you my blood," he says. My outburst is apparently not worth commenting on. "Either way, you will be a witch." 

But I may not be a strong enough witch to survive my enemies. I understand now: that's what he's saying. He's willing to make me stronger because it will give me a chance against the Hunters and the Council and Mercury and everyone who wants to force me to kill him for them.

In the wilderness, on the snowy ground, with my _father_ , is worlds away from anything I'd imagined having sex would be like. Actually, that makes it better, thinking that. I put all my half-formed fantasies in a box and shove them away. This is different. This is a lot more like a moment ago, when he reached around among my ribs to extract the Hunters' bullet. I can deal with discomfort. I can put up with a lot to be strong.

"You can fuck me," I say. And then, to show the words aren't just tumbling out of my mouth, I take off my shirt.

He watches me. I'm all the way undressed before he starts to take his jacket off.

I don't know whether to look at him or not. I suddenly realise that I really want to know about my father's scars. He's seen mine. His will be nothing like mine. But he's been in so many battles it must have marked him.

"Get on your knees, Nathan," he says. His chest is bare; he's undoing his belt. I see one silvery line across his chest before I do what he says. 

I wait there for a while. He's doing something I can't see. I would be cold - this is a bit much even for me - but I'm still a little buzzy from the healing, now that the bullet's gone.

At last he comes over, standing behind me, one leg in between my legs. He leans down and puts his hands on my back. His hands are shockingly warm. He moves one hand up my back, to the back of my throat, and slides it around under my chin. It's not just a gesture. The warmth follows his hand. I realise that his hands are coated in some kind of potion. It feels almost like melting, in a good way though - it relaxes the muscles under my skin where it passes. He moves his hands up and down me in a couple of places, not groping or squeezing, just striping me with warmth. It feels nice, actually. And weirdly impersonal.

Then he places both hands on my ass, and he does squeeze, rubbing the potion in. He's gentle, but the texture of his hands is rough. 

"This will help," he says. "This will help you relax. I'm going to use my fingers now, Nathan." I'm shuddering with all of it. He gets down on one knee behind me and his fingers press into my asshole and they feel thick and incredibly weird, but the warmth feels nice. The potion feels like it's turning me into honey, smoothing out everywhere it touches that I'm tense.

He gets down on both knees now, and his knees are pushing mine apart. I'm still bracing myself on my hands. I think: this is it.

He leans forward, his thighs pressing into the back of my thighs. I expect to feel the head of his cock pressing in, but instead, he thrusts his cock between my thighs, pushing up against my balls. My own cock twitches, like part of me has only just remembered what we're doing here.

My father's chest presses into my back. I can feel the tissue of my scars press into his skin. He reaches down to my right side, his arm curving around my belly, and takes hold of my cock.

I jerk forward, and I let out some kind of sound - what it is I don't know. Sort of like a laugh, maybe. I don't think I've ever felt so embarrassed in my life, like I'm not flinching away from the touch but at the same time I'm cringing almost out of my skin. He wraps his hand around me like he knows what he's doing, though. 

"I've got you, Nathan," he says.

"Right," I say.

He's holding himself up with his left hand, his cheek and his chest laid along my back, and still thrusting in and out between my thighs, and stroking me in a rhythm with his thrusts. I can feel his cock getting stiffer and stiffer in between my legs. I can feel myself getting harder, too. My heart is hammering. The potion on my skin means there's barely any friction where my father's cock is moving, but I find myself wondering what it would be like without the potion. The skin contact feels good; I wish he weren't almost gliding. 

He takes his hand away from my cock and pulls back a little. He spreads the cheeks of my ass apart; I can feel his cock nudging at me. 

I think: this is it, this is how I survive. This is how I become a witch.

He pushes in, slow but not stopping for a moment, even when he has to move his hands forward for leverage. I'm breathing fast and shallow, trying to accustom myself, trying to convince my body this isn't something to fight, this isn't something to heal, this is just... Something. Something that is. Something natural. Something to expect, the way he pulls out, thrusts in again, not fast or jerking but firm. When he pulls out he doesn't pull very far out. Part of my ass is always stretched around him.

There's something good about how heavy his cock feels in me, something that connects to the flushed weight of my own cock, bobbing freely in the air. I can feel warmth from the potion all across my body, everywhere his hands passed.

All at once I want to laugh again. I never saw my father once in seventeen years, and now, maybe twenty minutes ago, I have met him and he told me a secret of the Black Witches and it's a secret that means he's fucking me. Black Witches fuck their heirs to pass on their power. This is insane. Everything I've learned about White Witches just shows how fucked up their traditions are - they've always claimed it's Black Witches who are the fucked up ones, but maybe they're not wrong. Not about that. And I was given a choice and I chose this and I don't think anyone can say what that means about me.

He's going faster now. I want him to go faster. I push back against him, scrabbling a little back with my hands to give more resistance. I pick up my hand and try to touch my own cock - I need _more_ there - but he's fucking me hard enough that I can't hold myself up with just one hand. His breath puffs along my back. He's grunting with each thrust now. It isn't a very human sound. It's almost like a growl. He presses his face into the back of my neck and I feel his teeth. Suddenly I wonder if he's going to change shape, right here, right now. I imagine wolf teeth biting into me. 

He lifts his head. "Nathan, heir of my ancestors. You are my heir. _You are mine_." And he's crushing me against his chest, pushing me down almost into the ground, and I feel his cock pulse where it's buried deep in me. I feel his power radiate through me, I feel it spread within me like a potion and cover me like a blanket and reverberate through me like sound.

And I know that this is what he didn't tell me. I'm bound to him as White Witches are never bound to each other. I'll be stronger than I could have been any other way, but I will never be able to turn my full strength against him.

He reaches for my cock again, but even though I half-want the pressure of his hand, I push him away and tug at myself instead. I'm already on the edge and I come almost immediately, and a second wave of power goes through me, even as my father slides out of me. I feel ferocious. I feel invincible.

Then he's holding up his bleeding palm and I'm gulping at his blood, and he's whispering words in my ear that I can't follow the shape of, but something in me recognizes them. I know they're the Giving words, the words I'm meant to hear.

"It's done," he says. "You have everything I can give you, now."

I'm sticky and my skin is stippled in a patchwork of hot and cold. And I feel like I'm glowing with how much power is radiating off me.

"You chose well," he says. "Your next choices will determine how we meet again. For I am certain we will."

And he dresses and he gets up and he disappears into the snow, and after a little while, I do the same.

I have to find out what's happened to Gabriel. I have to track down the Fairborn. And I have to discover what my gifts are, now that I've come into my own.


End file.
